


To The Hilt

by linguamortua



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Caning, Face-Fucking, Lightsabers, Lightsabers As Sex Toys, M/M, Object Penetration, Restraints, Sexual Violence, Star Wars Trash Compactor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linguamortua/pseuds/linguamortua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>‘Careful, Hux,’ sang Kylo, sounding drunk, tipping his head back and looking across the room upside down. His feet trailed across the floor a few inches. ‘Not everything can be controlled as easily as me.’</i>
</p><p>In which Kylo is insatiable, and Hux fucks him with his own lightsaber. You're welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Hilt

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [on Tumblr](http://lingua-mortua.tumblr.com) for more Kylux, Marvel and Hannibal trash, works in progress and eldritch shrieking.
> 
> If you're curious about what Kylo's lightsaber looks like, I've been working off [one of the beautiful replicas made by Saberforge](https://www.etsy.com/au/listing/241620894/relic-v2-crossguard-custom-led-saber).

‘Is that all you’ve got?’ Kylo laughed, sweating and striped with red from his throat to his perfect cock. Hux’s arm ached from whipping him and yet Kylo’s mouth was wide and grinning as he hung from the ceiling by his wrists. His body, long and lean and muscular, could take punishment like nothing else, like nobody Hux had ever met. Hux presumed it was some kind of Force training; he himself could, if necessary, withstand a certain amount of pain on the battlefield. For Kylo, the ability to endure pain went beyond a useful quality in a soldier. For him, it was a paraphilia, and nothing would sate it.

Harder, deeper, more, faster - these were the only things Kylo cared about. He was reckless with his body. Hux had heard that some people had rules for this kind of play; Kylo sneered at the idea of setting limits, revelled in risk. And what did Hux care? If called to choose between the two of them, Hux was confident that Snoke would select him. Snoke valued him more highly. That was perfectly obvious. Kylo was beautiful and exhilarating and always so desperate to be fucked, but as a military asset he was more trouble than he was worth. And so now, with Kylo stretched out in front of him, naked and erect and laughing with adrenaline, Hux felt no duty of care whatsoever.

He picked up the cane again and rolled his shoulders. His jacket was long gone, and his shirt. He was sweating through his undershirt. With the cane in hand, he took a leisurely walk around Kylo, examining the narrow red stripes that covered him. The lines along his ass and thighs were bleeding a little. The sight made the blood rush to Hux’s cock. At any moment, Kylo could rip the hook out of the ceiling, break the thin chain that held his cuffs and walk from the room, free. He chose not to. He relinquished that power to Hux.

Hux had made Kylo beg to take him to bed for a long, long time before he relented. It had been worth it.

‘I could let you hang here a while to think about your attitude,’ Hux said, absently, flicking the cane so it whistled through the air but not making contact. Kylo flinched at the sound, bracing himself for the strike that never came.

‘Do what you want, I don’t care,’ said Kylo, grinning at him over one shoulder and letting his feet lose their limited traction on the floor. His pupils were huge, dilated with lust.

‘You’d care if I stopped,’ Hux threatened.

‘Not if this is all you can do,’ said Kylo, shrugging his shoulders as best he could. Hux turned his back so Kylo couldn’t see the way his jaw tightened. He put down the cane and considered; what next? Denial generally elicited pleasing results, but he was feeling impatient today. His daily responsibilities had been particularly onerous, his underlings particularly useless. He wanted to satisfy himself, enjoy a solitary glass of brandy and then seek his bed. Upon thinking of bed, he cast his eyes across to his bunk, where Kylo had flung his clothing. Haphazardly, as always, a sloppy habit that Hux had not yet managed to break him of. His gaze fell upon the dull, scarred metal of Kylo’s lightsabre hilt, tossed carelessly on the pillow.

Hux smiled.

He stalked over to the bed and picked it up for the first time. He weighed it in his hand. It was lighter than he had imagined it would be. He knew that if he pressed his thumb and finger into the correct studs, it would flare to life with a hiss even for someone with no talents in the Force. He let his thumb trail over the metal stud.

‘Careful, Hux,’ sang Kylo, sounding drunk, tipping his head back and looking across the room upside down. His feet trailed across the floor a few inches. ‘Not everything can be controlled as easily as me.’

Hux ignored him, and reached into the storage cabinet above his bunk. He removed a clear bottle, filched from the medbay and half-full of a highly effective lubricant. With bottle and weapon in hand, he circled back round to face Kylo. Kylo took a long look at what Hux was carrying, and Hux enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of watching realisation dawn on Kylo’s flushed, freckled face. His dark brows furrowed, and he looked up at Hux.

‘Might this suffice?’ Hux asked, more amused than he could entirely suppress. Kylo wet his lower lip with his tongue, and stared. Hux stepped in closer and Kylo leaned forward, contorting his shoulders, to try to kiss him. It took much of Hux’s considerable willpower to stand a hair’s breadth out of reach with Kylo’s hot breath against his lips. He held firm. Kylo’s toes squeaked on the floor as he tried to scrabble closer. This time, Hux allowed their lips to brush, just to indulge himself with the breathless, high sound Kylo made. Kylo gulped back a tiny sound that might have been the start of the word _please_. Hux pitched his voice very low. ‘Should I let you go now, Kylo?’

‘No,’ said Kylo in a rush, his eyes fluttering half-closed. Hux bounced the metal hilt in his hand, letting it slap against his palm.

‘Suddenly it seems that you care quite a lot what I do,’ he said. Kylo breathed hard through his mouth, eyes still locked on his lightsaber, and didn’t reply. Hux set the bottle of lubricant on the floor, straightened up slowly, and slapped Kylo across the face. ‘Look at me when I’m speaking to you.’ Kylo dragged his eyes up to Hux’s face.

‘I want it,’ he said softly. He swallowed hard; Hux heard it, watched his throat work.

‘What do you want?’ Hux feigned confusion.

‘I want,’ breathed Kylo, ‘I want the— I want that.’ He nodded towards the hilt.

‘No,’ said Hux, as though commanding a dog. ‘Tell me what you _want_.’

‘Fuck me with it,’ Kylo begged, his voice shaking. He twisted in his restraints, squirming, a blush creeping down his face and neck. His muscles stood out as if he was being tortured.

‘Ask me nicely,’ Hux said, torturing him a little more.

‘Hux,’ said Kylo, in a voice rich with want; a dangerous voice, one that could make a man do stupid things. ‘Hux, please.’

Hux looked down at the lightsaber in his hand. It was a vicious piece of engineering, thick and ridged for good grip. It fit comfortably into Hux’s hand, not much thicker than anything Kylo had taken before. Kylo had crafted it himself, and the thought of stretching him open with his own cruel weapon made a sharp shiver of pleasure run through Hux’s belly. There was no safety catch, no way to make the lightsaber safe. Hux would have to be very careful. He set it aside and moved behind Kylo, resting his hands on Kylo’s slim hips. A soft bite to the muscle of Kylo’s shoulder, a gentle stroke down his flank with one hand, and Kylo moaned and threw his head back onto Hux’s chest.  

It was so easy to manipulate Kylo, to flip him from brattish insouciance to desperate begging. Now a stern word, now a soft touch. What the boy - Hux always thought of him as _the boy_ , despite how close they were in age - what the boy needed, was a firm hand. Hux trailed his fingertips down Kylo’s sweating, abused back, down over the muscular swell of his ass. Kylo swayed at the touch.

If he concentrated very hard, Kylo could have relaxed his shoulders and rested his toes on the floor. Hux had measured the restraints precisely. Kylo was never very good at resisting temptation, though, so Hux’s every touch and movement set Kylo writhing and swinging in his cuffs. This presented a logistical problem. Hux idly dragged his fingernails over Kylo’s right nipple, just to make him gasp and sob, and then he reached up and gave Kylo another scant inch of length in the chain running from cuffs to ceiling. Thus lengthened, the chain allowed Kylo to plant him on his tiptoes, feet several inches apart. When Hux pulled at his hips, Kylo understood that he should brace his shoulders and press his ass backwards. His lower back curved in a long arc.

Kylo’s head was hanging down on his chest; he was now focused on holding himself steady, just how Hux wanted him. Despite his protests to the contrary, Kylo was rather well-trained. Or rather, he had been trained to perform for Hux’s rewards, which was good enough.

Hux licked his fingers and pressed them to Kylo’s ass. No warning; Kylo jumped and sucked in a breath before he recovered himself. His flesh was pebbling with anticipation and perhaps a touch of chill, although his skin was hot against Hux’s fingers. Hux slid inside, just the first inch. He was close to Kylo, so close that his skin prickled with the proximity. He bit at Kylo’s shoulder again and Kylo tightened up around his fingers. Hux allowed himself to palm at his own cock through his pants. His earlier impatience had given way to a mean, hot delight. A satisfaction with his own creativity and an eagerness to watch Kylo take what he was going to give.

He curled his fingertips and Kylo moaned and slumped in his cuffs. He rescued the lubricant and applied it liberally, slicked his fingers and knuckles. Some nights, Kylo was so tense, so angry, that working him open took time. Tonight he spread himself for Hux like a slut hanging around the docks, and Hux’s fingers slid in with ease. Three fingers, and Kylo ground backwards, rolling his hips the way he did when he rode Hux’s cock.

Hux buried his face in the back of Kylo’s neck, inhaling the smell of his hair, nuzzling in under his ear and shivering with the way Kylo tipped his head to let Hux get at his tender neck. No sense of self preservation. Hux could sink his teeth into Kylo’s jugular, crush his windpipe, flick on the lightsaber and skewer him on his own weapon. A dark, pulsing part of Hux wanted to. He settled for dragging his teeth along Kylo’s skin and sinking his fingers into him down to the knuckles. He twisted his hand and thumbed over Kylo’s balls, tight and warm under his touch.

Kylo’s every exhale shuddered out of him. Already, his legs were starting to shake with fatigue. His cock was wet and it twitched and pulsed as Hux worked him, worked into him.

‘Please,’ Kylo said in a long, breathy slur. He wiped his sweating face on his shoulder and craned his neck back to look at Hux. His lips were bitten red. He had a dark curl stuck to his cheek, and Hux slid it free with a fingernail. Kylo leaned into the touch and Hux almost groaned with the power of it, the hold he had over Kylo in this moment.

He grabbed the hilt from the floor and flipped it, so that the smooth, rounded end pointed towards Kylo and the twin opening for the crossguard were in his own hand. He slicked it thoroughly, stifling a snort of amusement at the task Kylo would have cleaning it. For a brief, tortuous moment, he rested the hilt up against Kylo’s ass and waited - waited until Kylo said his name, desperate, and then he began to push inside.

It was easier than he had imagined. The hilt was ridged and hard, yes, but Kylo was loose and well-slicked and he knew how to take it. The rounded pommel breached Kylo like Hux’s cock head had so many times. Kylo cried out, his hands fisting in their cuffs and his chin on his chest so that his hair fell in his face. He was a mess. Hux fought to open his pants with his left hand, freeing his cock so he could palm it a little, indulge himself. He would not come - he would _not_ , not yet - but he couldn’t hold back entirely. He eased the worn activation button into Kylo, twisting the hilt back and forth. His fingers were wrapped around the base of the hilt; if the saber ignited, he might take a burn on his forearm from the crossguard but that would be the worst of it.

Kylo may have been reckless; Hux preferred his nights to end in his own bunk, rather than the medbay. Hux wasn’t stupid.

Deep inside Kylo’s writhing body, the thumb stud of the weapon rubbed up against him, sliding over him in the just right place. Kylo moaned through his teeth. He was stretched so wide that it had to be a little painful - but that was the point, of course, that was what he craved. Hux could fuck him until he bled and he’d still come back for more. The thought of a thin rivulet of blood making it’s way down the meat of Kylo’s pale thigh pulled an involuntary growl from Hux. He squeezed his cock at the base, breathing through his nose. Determined not to come before Kylo. He pushed the hilt home. Kylo shouted Hux’s name in a great heave of his chest. Hux ground the hilt into him and Kylo took it, making wordless noises, feet slipping and sweaty on the floor. The metal was warm and slippery in Hux’s hand, hard to manipulate, but it took only a few more thrusts before a bone-deep shiver wracked Kylo and he made a sound, something like a squeal muffled by him biting deep into the meat of his bicep and—

‘Oh,’ Kylo slurred, ‘do it, do it, Hux, oh— ’

As Hux watched, Kylo’s cock jerked and he tensed up, folding as much as he could, and he was coming, his come trickling down his cock and to the floor. Hux fucked him right through it, through every shiver and moan, through the aftershocks and the last little pulses of spunk, until Kylo was hanging half-insensate and panting raggedly.

The hilt of his lightsaber dropped to the floor with a dull clang, and Hux slung an arm about Kylo’s waist and began jerking himself, the smell of Kylo’s sweat and spunk and blood strong in his nostrils.

‘Let me,’ said Kylo, coming back to himself and tugging at his wrist cuffs. The chain shuddered as Kylo swiped out with the Force, uncoordinated and unfocused. A light on the ceiling rattled in its housing. Hux reached up and popped open the cuffs with sweating fingers. Kylo slid immediately to the ground like a half-empty sack, cracking his bare knees and barely catching himself on his hands. He pulled himself up on his heels, and shoved Hux’s hand away from his cock. Hux fisted his hands in Kylo’s tangled hair to pull him closer, but Kylo was already there, burying his face in Hux’s hip for a moment before taking him deep into his mouth. Hux bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed. Kylo wrapped one long arm about Hux’s hips and grabbed hold of the back of his thigh with the other, choking himself, moaning with it. The head of Hux’s cock glided over Kylo’s tongue, over his palate and to the back of this throat.

Hux felt himself snarl, felt his fingers tug at Kylo’s hair; he fucked Kylo’s throat, the way he wanted it, the way he needed it. When he pulled out to let Kylo breathe, Kylo was wrecked, face spit-wet and tears trailing down his cheeks, sucking in air in a wet gulp. Hux pushed Kylo’s hair out of his face to get a better look, and Kylo’s face broke into a drugged sort of a smile.

‘Don’t smirk at me,’ Hux told him, more to be giving the order than because he cared. Kylo’s grin grew wider.

‘Stop me,’ he dared, and Hux growled at him and opened his mouth with a rough thumb, pushed his cock in again. Kylo’s lower teeth dragged along his cock and Hux was ruined; his stomach tightened, desire licked through him and he came. Kylo pulled off, his mouth wet and swollen, swallowing hard.

‘One day,’ Hux said, speaking in between breaths and fastening his pants up again, ‘one day I will run out of punishments for you.’

‘Or you’ll kill me,’ laughed Kylo, still kneeling with his eyes closed and his head back. His throat was exposed, lined with cane stripes. His wrists, resting on his thighs, were dark with bruises from tonight and from all the other nights. He looked deliciously, deceptively fragile.

‘Or I’ll kill you,’ agreed Hux, knowing exactly how and when he intended to do so.


End file.
